Summertime (Frerard)

22: If It Hurts This Much, Then It Must Be Love

"Gerard?" My eyes widened as I came up to my house only to find none other than the unmistakeably fiery red haired figure perched upon the fence, gradually smoking his way through a packet of Marlboro.

"Frank." He pushed his lips into a smile as he faced me, dragging out a nicotine filled breath as rolled his eyes down my ripped jeans for a period of time that was prolonged just enough to be suspicious yet not enough for me to call him out upon it without him calling me out upon the fact that I was taking notice of that kind of thing. Which I totally wasn't by the way - my eyes, they just drifted there, you know?

"Any reason you're sat outside my house?" I looked behind him and into the windows, squinting to try and make out the figure of my father as I prayed he hadn't noticed my boyfriend on full display in our front yard. He wouldn't take well to the fact that I had a boyfriend, yet alone the fact that it was someone like Gerard. I could see that my father and Gerard would disagree on just about everything, the number one factor though, being Gerard's hair.

He shrugged, following my gaze behind him, leaving me to pray he wouldn't appear at that moment to be met by none other than Gerard's piercing hazel eyes. "Wanted to see you." He then turned back to me, brows furrowed in confusion.

"What are you looking at?" The words left his lips easily, yet he didn't turn back for another glance. He seemed only mildly curious, and he most likely only cared because I did, and at face value that was indeed a lovely gesture, but this was Gerard and things went deeper than that.

"Nothing." I shrugged it off, my eyes drifting to the floor, not entirely sure how I'd even fathom tackling explaining this to Gerard, so I just pushed it off, saying I didn't want to. Surely that was easier.

"Don't lie to me, Iero." He met with skeptical eyes and an expression that was everything but pleased.

"I just-" I met his eyes, watching as his pupils dilated a little in contact with me. "Don't take this the wrong way- I just don't want him to see you." The final words came out slowly and barely audible, almost as if he might hear us from the house- if he even was in the house, that was.

Gerard nodded, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the pavement with his heel, and then relighting another within a mere few seconds. "I get it."

"Thank god-"

"I'm your little secret. I'm like your slut - we're having an affair or something. You're cheating on your heterosexuality with me-" Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No, Gerard did not get it. It was absolutely nothing like that, I- I, just, my dad he couldn't know.

I blushed a terrible shade of red as Gerard's accusation fell over me completely, leaving me to wonder just what the hell he thought of me really. "No, no, no. It's not - you're my boyfriend, I- I-"

"I don't care; it's kind of hot, actually." He glanced up at me with a wink, sliding his lighter back into the box and pocketing his Marlboro. "Don't look at me like that, Frankie." He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and fuck, what had gotten myself into, with someone so fucking attractive and damn irrestible, who also happened to be ruining all aspects of my previous life, but somehow, I just didn't care at all.

"Like what?" He pouted his lips around his cigarette, hollowing out his cheeks as he released a smoky breath.

"That look there." He pointed at my face in a vague gesture, causing his cigarette to slip out a little between his fingers. He muttered a profanity I didn't quite catch as he struggled not to drop it. "That look where you're biting your lip and you're looking at me with those big hazel eyes like you want to drop everything and run away with me to start a family of gypsy children."